Just then the shrill voice of a crier pealed through the camp, and I
observed a general movement. I could not make out what the man said,
but the peculiar intonation told that he was uttering some signal or
summons. Something of importance was about to transpire.
The Indians now commenced circling around the blazing pile, meeting and
passing each other, as if threading the mazes of some silent and solemn
dance. Others were seen hastening up from distant parts of the camp--as
if to observe the actions of those around the fire, or join with them in
the movement.
I did not wait to watch them; their attention thus occupied, gave me an
opportunity of reaching the copse unobserved; and, without further ado,
I started towards it.
I walked slowly, and with an assumed air of careless indifference. I
counterfeited the Comanche walk--not that bold free port--the
magnificent and inimitable stride, so characteristic of Chippewa and
Shawano, of Huron and Iroquois--but the shuffling gingery step of an
English jockey; for such in reality is the gait of the Comanche Indian
when afoot.
I must have played my part well. A savage, crossing from the
horse-guards towards the great fire, passed near me, and hailed me by
name.
"_Wakono_!" cried he.
"_Que cosa_?" (Well--what matter?) I replied in Spanish, imitating as
well as I could the Indian voice and accent. It was a venture, but I
was taken at a strait, and could not well remain silent.
The man appeared some little surprised at being addressed in the
language of Mexico; nevertheless, he understood it, and made rejoinder.
"You hear the summons, Wakono? Why do you not come forward? The
council meets; Hissoo-royo is already there."
I understood what was said--more from the Indian's gestures than his
speech--though the words "summons", "council," and the name
"Hissoo-royo," helped me to comprehend his meaning. I chanced to know
the Comanche epithets for the two first, and also that Hissoo-royo (the
Spanish wolf) was the Indian appellation of the Mexican renegade.
Though I understood what was said, I was not prepared with a reply. I
dared not risk the answer in Spanish; for I knew not the extent of
Wakono's proficiency in the Andalusian tongue.
I felt myself in a dilemma; and the importunate savage--no doubt some
friend of Wakono himself--appeared determined to stick to me. How was I
to get rid of him?
A happy idea came to my relief. Assuming an air of extreme dignity, and
as though I did not wish to be disturbed in my meditations, I raised my
hand and waved the man a parting salute: at the same time turning my
head, I walked slowly away.
The Indian accepted the _conge_, and moved off, but evidently with an
air of reluctance. As I glanced back over my shoulder, I could see him
parting from the spot, with a hesitating step; no doubt somewhat
astonished at the strange behaviour of his friend Wakono.
I did not look back again until I had placed myself under the shadow of
the timber. Then I turned to reconnoitre; my friend had continued on: I
saw him just entering among the crowd that circled around the great
fire.
Screened from observation by the shadow, I could now pause and reflect.
The trifling incident that had caused me some apprehension, had also
helped me to some useful knowledge: First, I had learned my own name;
second, that a council was about to take place; and thirdly, that the
renegade, Hissoo-royo, had something to do with the council.
This was knowledge of importance; combined with my previous information,
everything was now made clear. This council could be no other than the
jury-trial between the renegade and the yet nameless chief; the same
that was to decide to which belonged the right of property in my
betrothed. It was about to meet; it had not assembled as yet. Then had
I arrived in time. Neither white savage nor red savage had yet come
into possession; neither had dared to lay hand on the coveted and
priceless gem.
Isolina was still safe--thus singularly preserved from brutal contact.
These dogs in the manger--their mutual jealousy had proved her
protection!